


The Land Bleeds

by Kiunlo



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blood moon, Climate Change, Drought, Fire, Gen, Global Warming, Pain, non-fiction, red sun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 10:16:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20673737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiunlo/pseuds/Kiunlo
Summary: Mother Nature takes back what is rightfully hers, and she takes it back with blood and rage in her two red eyes.





	The Land Bleeds

**Author's Note:**

> All of these events happened in real life.

It hasn't rained in an entire year.

The ground is dry like bone, and the grass beneath my feet crunches as it falls apart, yellow and dead. Some parts of the ground don't even _ have _ grass anymore, the lush green blades having long since died, and failed to reproduce.

The trees around me do not speak. Their branches crack and their trunks creak, but they do not speak. They _ can't _ speak...not anymore. The majority of them are either dead or in the process of dying, though their corpses still remain. Their leaves continue to blow in the wind, and it almost brings me back to the days when they still lived, but I know it will never be the same.

There is no water to speak of, and what little there is left will not last for much longer.

The fires in the distance rage and burn through the dry land like it's nothing, and the smoke fills my lungs up until there is no oxygen left. I've become accustomed to the smell. I'd almost _ like _ it, if I didn't know why it was present in the first place.

My home comes close to burning to the ground, but it is just barely saved by the firefighters who get there just in time. But though I get to keep my home, I weep for those that do not.

I do not forget the firefighter whose face, arms, legs and airways are burnt by the fire they tried to put out. I do not forget how nonchalant they were about being burnt. I do not forget how they went into a coma only a few days later.

A storm comes in from nowhere, clouds filled to the brim with rain and it whispers a promise of relief, as though it wants to save the land from being burnt alive, from starvation. I pray to it; I _ beg _ it to save us, but instead it wreaks havoc on the land as it spews forth lightning to the ground, setting more of the grass and trees ablaze. It refuses it's water and carries on, forgetting our presence as quickly as it discovered us, it's promise to us broken.

I can no longer see the hills or mountains in the distance, and if I were a fool, I might mistake the bushfire smoke for thick fog. I can barely see past the closest tree.

As the sun sets and the moon rises, both are red with _**blood**_. Mother Nature's eyes are upon me, and she looks at me with rage.


End file.
